8. Ell-rom

8

ELL-ROM

A s the minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness, Ell-rom became acutely aware of the silence pressing in around him. No one had come to check on him and Jasmine or to offer words of comfort and reassurance.

He understood why, of course.

Kian was at the keep, overseeing the tracker removal experiment. Annani was occupied with her daughters. But the knowledge did little to ease the ache of loneliness that settled in his chest.

He held on to Jasmine's hand as if, through sheer force of will, he could tether her to the world of the living. The steady beep of the heart monitor provided a rhythmic backdrop to his silent prayers, a desperate litany to the Mother of All Life to keep Jasmine in this world and not take her away from him.

"Great Mother, creator of life, please guide Jasmine safely through her transition. She is everything to me."

The words felt strange on his tongue, a mixture of a familiar ritual and raw emotion. Ell-rom loved Jasmine with every beat of his heart, but he hadn't realized the depth of his attachment to her.

He could barely breathe without her.

She looked so peaceful, as if she was only sleeping, but she was unresponsive, unconscious. He longed to see her eyes open, to hear her voice, to feel the warmth of her smile that somehow made everything seem brighter, more vibrant. Without her animated presence, the world around him felt dull, devoid of color, and unwelcoming.

"I miss you." Ell-rom gently squeezed Jasmine's hand. "I never realized how much I've come to rely on you. You are like a bright light in a dark room. You make my life worth living, my Jasmine."

The moment the words left his lips, Ell-rom felt a jolt of awareness.

This was a novel feeling, wasn't it? This sense of purpose and the joy in simply existing.

He frowned as he delved into the murky waters of his fragmented memories. Had life on Anumati truly been so bleak? So devoid of hope?

Images flashed through his mind: dark corridors, whispered conversations, the constant weight of secrecy and fear. The isolation had been all-encompassing, suffocating. He and Morelle had been two anomalies in a world that had no place for them.

Morelle. The thought of his twin sent another pang through Ell-rom's heart, and guilt gnawed at him.

Here he was, upset because no one was visiting him and Jasmine, while she had been all alone in her room for days on end.

"Jasmine, my love," he said softly, leaning in close, "I'm going to step out for a few minutes to check on Morelle. I'll be right back, I promise." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before reluctantly releasing her hand.

As he stepped into the waiting area, he saw Bridget in her office, but she was turned around with her back to him, her swivel chair facing the cabinet behind her desk, and her phone clutched to her ear.

She laughed at something the person on the other side had said, which sounded oddly out of place in the somber atmosphere.

Not wanting to disturb the medic, Ell-rom quietly made his way toward Morelle's room.

He didn't hesitate before depressing the handle, but unlike almost every other time he had visited his sister, she wasn't alone, and seeing the back of a male who was leaning over her sent a bolt of adrenaline surging through his system.

In an instant, Ell-rom felt his protective instincts flare to life. The familiar burning sensation started building behind his eyes, and his fangs began to elongate.

The stranger turned around, his eyes widening as he took in Ell-rom's threatening posture. Recognition flickered across his features, and he quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"It's me, Brandon," the male said, his voice steady and sure despite the tension in the air. "Calm down, Ell-rom."

He blinked, forcing himself to take a steadying breath. He'd met the guy during the welcoming party, and he was sitting with Kian at the clinic when Bridget told Ell-rom to leave Jasmine's room.

"What are you doing here?" Ell-rom asked, his voice low and tinged with a growl he couldn't quite suppress.

Brandon's posture remained open and non-threatening. "I'm keeping Morelle company." He smiled, but it looked a little forced. "It didn't seem fair that you were getting all the attention while she was all alone in here. Julian said that she needed someone to talk to her, and well, talking is my thing. I can talk for hours."

The explanation was reasonable but not logical.

Brandon had no reason to be in Morelle's room.

Nevertheless, Ell-rom forced his fangs to retract, consciously relaxing the tension in his shoulders. "Julian is correct," he conceded, "and I thank you for the effort. But it seems a little odd to me that you would dedicate your time to a stranger."

Brandon's smile widened, a hint of self-deprecation creeping into his expression. "Ah, well, I suppose it might seem that way. But I'm a storyteller at heart. It's what I do, what I've always done. And Morelle," he gestured toward the still form on the bed, "she's got seven thousand years of history to catch up on. Who better to bring her up to speed than someone who can spin a tale better than anyone else?"

It sounded great. His sister needed all the stimulation she could get, and if Brandon was telling her about Earth's history, maybe Ell-rom should join the lessons. He did not want this stranger with unknown motives alone with his sister.

He moved further into the room, his gaze shifting between Brandon and Morelle. "I would love to hear some of those tales you have been spinning for my sister."

If Brandon was offended by the implied accusation, he didn't show it. Instead, he sat down on the lone chair in the room and leaned back. "Oh, a bit of everything, really. The rise and fall of empires, great discoveries, the triumphs and follies of human progress. Did you know that humans have walked on the moon and that soon they will walk on Mars?"

Leaning against Morelle's bed, Ell-rom crossed his arms over his chest. "I did not know that. But since I come from space-faring people, and given the technological advancement of humans, I am not surprised." He turned to look at his sister's peaceful expression. "Has she responded to any of your tales?"

Brandon shook his head. "Regrettably, she has not. I thought that I saw a ghost of a smile. That was why you found me leaning over her when you came in. I wasn't doing anything I was not supposed to."

The fact that Brandon was apologizing for something that hadn't even occurred to Ell-rom aroused his suspicions again.

Ell-rom frowned. "Like what?"

Brandon chuckled. "I keep forgetting how new you are to our culture. There is a very popular fairy tale about a sleeping princess and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss. I admit to being tempted, but I would never do such a thing without a lady's consent, and since Morelle is unconscious, I can only dream of her waking up, taking one look at me, and deciding that she wants to kiss me."

That was such an honest admission that Ell-rom felt his suspicions fade. "Are you enchanted by my sister, Councilman Brandon?"

"What can I say?" The media specialist lifted his hands in defeat. "She is magnificent." His expression turned serious. "Don't worry, Prince Ell-rom. I swear on my honor that I will not do anything inappropriate. I'm here to help Morelle in any way I can, and Julian and Bridget approve." He lifted his finger and pointed at the camera mounted near the ceiling. "It's not like we are really alone in here. This room is constantly monitored, and so is Jasmine's, so don't do anything you don't want the esteemed medics to see."

The truth was that he had forgotten about the cameras, which he shouldn't have, given that he had spent a lot of time in a room just like this one.

"Thank you for reminding me."

He took Morelle's hand in his and was shocked when the contact sent a rush of memories flooding through him. Chasing each other through the empty corridors of the temple, getting scolded by the head priestess and sent to their room, spending countless nights huddled together in the dark, whispering stories to each other and finding solace in each other's presence when the world rejected them.

"I'm sorry I haven't spent more time with you," he murmured, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand. "A lot has been happening."

Brandon watched the interaction with sympathy in his eyes. "You must have been very close."

Ell-rom nodded, not taking his eyes off his sister's face. "We are two halves of the same soul, or as the head priestess used to joke, the mirror image of one another. Morelle was my whole world for so long. We only had each other."

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the soft beep of Morelle's heart monitor. After a few moments, Brandon shifted in his chair. "I've been thinking about your story—yours and Morelle's. It could make a great script for an epic fantasy. Two beings, born of two worlds, hidden away, lost in space for thousands of years, only to emerge into a completely different era. It's the kind of tale that could captivate millions."

Ell-rom looked up sharply, a flicker of alarm passing through him. "Our existence must remain a secret."

Brandon laughed. "It would be totally fictionalized, of course. Names changed, details altered. But people will connect with the struggle for identity, the search for belonging, and the power of siblings' bonds. It's universal."

Ell-rom was intrigued despite thinking that this story should never see the light of day. "Is this what you do? Create fictional stories?"

"Among other things, yes." A spark of enthusiasm lit Brandon's eyes. "I've been in the entertainment industry for longer than I care to admit. Producing films and television shows. I love providing windows into other worlds and other lives, shaping perceptions, challenging beliefs, and inspiring change."

The concept of sharing stories, of connecting with others through shared experiences—even fictionalized ones—was oddly appealing. It contrasted with the secrecy and isolation that had defined so much of Ell-rom and Morelle's existence.

"I wish you could create a story about us, but it is too dangerous. I don't know if Earth's broadcasting is monitored on Anumati, but if it is, we can't risk even a fictionalized and altered version."